


Turning Chance

by bjfic_archivist



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-03
Updated: 2008-04-03
Packaged: 2018-12-27 00:01:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12069651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bjfic_archivist/pseuds/bjfic_archivist
Summary: Brian has to interview some potential candidates for a job at Kinnetik.  They aren't all they're cracked up to be.





	Turning Chance

**Author's Note:**

> Note from IrishCaelan, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Brian_Justin_Fanfiction_Archive). To preserve the archive, I began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in September 2017. I posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Brian/Justin Fanfiction Archive collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/bjfic/profile).

  
Author's notes: This was written for the Classy Insults and Awful Analogies Challenge at Moonshadow.    


* * *

_"I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure." -- Clarence Darrow_

_Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever._

_“A wise man turns chance into good fortune.” – Thomas Fuller_

Turning Chance

Brian was getting ready to interview prospects for the position of receptionist at Kinnetik.  The previous receptionist had just had a baby and had decided she wanted to stay home with her new bundle of joy.  It had taken months before they had found her.  She did her job efficiently, didn’t get on Brian’s nerves, and knew when to put people through to her boss and when to put them off.  She was worth her weight in gold; at least she had been before she gained all that weight while she was pregnant.  And now she was abandoning them.  She had been with Kinnetik for almost three years and it wasn’t going to be easy to replace her.  Brian was not looking forward to trying to find someone new.

They had already had six temporary receptionists in the month since Amanda had given birth, before she decided she was not coming back.  None had lasted even a full week.  They all sucked, some more than others.  Brian snorted at that thought.  He’d rather be sucking and fucking than interviewing receptionists.  That went without saying.  

The new receptionist would have to answer the phone, present a pleasant demeanor to clients when they came in, maybe do a bit of typing and generally be helpful and cheerful as needed.  But not too cheerful, as Brian had told Cynthia before she left to go visit her sick aunt.

Cynthia had set up an afternoon of interviews.  Everyone at Kinnetik was totally fed up with the temps and wanted to get someone permanent.  Cynthia had fully intended to conduct the interviews.  However, the sudden illness of her aunt had caused her to rush off to Cleveland and leave Brian with the task of interviewing all these fucking potential employees.  Brian knew he had better things to do with his time.

With a sigh and dread in his heart, Brian picked up the first resume.  Agatha Brandeis he read on the front cover.  There were pages of jobs the woman had held, most of them lasting for about five years each.  How the hell old was this woman?  Brian looked at her birth year.  Fuck!  That made her sixty-two.

Brian pushed the button on the intercom.

“Yes, Mr. Kinney,” a whiny voice responded.  It was the latest temp.

“Is my first appointment out there?” Brian asked.

“Yes.”

Brian waited a beat for the “sir” that should have been on the end of that statement.  When it did not appear, he sighed and said, “Send her in, Dora.”

“It’s Doris, Mr. Kinney,” she whined.

“Send her the fuck in!” Brian bellowed.

Brian stood up and walked around the desk deciding that he would greet the elderly lady at the door to his office.  He opened the door and allowed the gray haired woman to enter before closing it behind them.

“Mrs. Brandeis?” Brian said sitting down behind his desk once she was seated in the chair in front.

“It’s Ms. Brandeis,” the woman replied with her face pinched.

“I see.”

“And just what do you think you see?” she demanded.  “Yes, I am a feminist, and yes, I have very high standards,” the woman informed Brian.  “I run a very efficient office.  I am very good at what I do.  And I expect to be treated with the highest regard.”

“I can only imagine,” Brian replied stifling a chuckle at her trying to put him in his place.  Who was interviewing who?

“Are you being sarcastic?” she demanded.  “I don’t like sarcasm.”  Her face pinched up even more.

“Then I don’t think we have anything further to discuss.  Thank you for coming in.”  Brian stood.

“That’s it?!” she demanded.  “I come all the way over here to be dismissed by the likes of you in … three and a half minutes?” she said checking her watch to be totally precise.

“Believe me, Ms. Brandeis, I’m doing you a huge favor by not even considering you for this job.  We’d drive each other insane.”

“I do believe you’re right about that, Mr. Kinney.  Good day.”  And with that she marched out of the office in a huff.

Brian snickered to himself.  They would have made the most incompatible employer and employee of all time.  Brian sank back into his chair and grabbed the next resume in the pile.  He skimmed through the qualifications which were suspect at best.  He had to wonder why Cynthia would include someone with so little experience as a receptionist.

“Is the next interview out there, Dorian?” Brian asked into the intercom.  

“It’s Doris,” the girl whined.

“Send her in,” Brian ordered ignoring the grating sound of the temporary receptionist’s voice.

The door to his office opened and a very young woman with thigh high boots and a short skirt entered.  “Mr. Kinney,” the girl said, “I’m Kandi Tompkins.”

“Kandi, I should have known,” Brian smirked.  “Have a seat.”

The girl sat on the chair that Ms. Brandeis had just vacated.  “I’m like so excited about this job,” she gushed.

“Like … you don’t have it yet,” Brian said sarcastically.

“I just think I’m like perfect for it though,” Kandi giggled.  “I love to talk on the phone.”

“Is that right?” Brian asked raising a brow.

“And my mother knows Cynthia, um … Miss Morgan, and she put in a good word for me, and like, I’m just so happy to be here, and like I know I would do a good job for you, because like, I really want this job.”

“Have you held any jobs before this?” Brian asked.  He was going to kill Cynthia, and the girl’s mother too, if he could get his hands on her.

“Like, not really.  I worked like at McDonald’s when I was in like high school, but only for a few days, because like it’s really a greasy place and like it just wasn’t for me, so I told my boss that he’d like have to take me off the grill, because of like all that grease flying up in my face, and it like ruined my complexion, and he like told me that I was fired.  So I said, ‘Whatever,’ and like left.”

“And … I think you can like leave here too,” Brian said with a cheery smile.

“Are we like done?”

“Oh yeah!”

“Did I like get the job?” Kandi said with a smile.

“Like no.”

Kandi frowned and looked slightly confused.  “But I’m like really, really, really good on the phone.”

“I’m sure you are.  I’ve never seen anyone who could cram as much into a sentence as you … and without taking a breath.”

“Like thanks,” Kandi replied using her best cutesy smile.

“Good day, Miss Tompkins.”

“Whatever,” Kandi sighed as she stood up and headed for the door.

“Whatever,” Brian muttered and shook his head.  There had to be something better in this pile of resumes.  He picked up the third resume and prayed for someone who could talk in coherent sentences and who paused for a breath at least every three or four minutes.

“Delores, send in Ms. Barnstable.”

“It’s Doris,” the voice came back.

“Send her the fuck in!”

Brian took a deep breath trying to calm himself.  He would get through these fucking interviews and he better fucking find someone who was acceptable.  

“Come in, Ms. Barnstable,” Brian said standing up and plastering on his imitation of a welcoming smile.  

He could do this, and he did.  For the next two hours he talked to all and sundry, including a tall leggy blond with nails so long it would be impossible for her to type, a short ugly woman who barely spoke English, and someone who seemed so out of it that there was some question that they were actually at the right job interview.  There were others who were slightly more acceptable, but none that made Brian want to hire them.  They all made their way through Brian’s office.  One even had the nerve not to show up.  That resume belonged to a young man named Trevor Albright, whom Brian had been rather looking forward to meeting.  His resume had sounded promising, and maybe a male receptionist would prove somewhat better than the female variety he had been enduring all day.  However, Trevor Albright chose not to appear for his interview.

And they kept on coming, twelve interviewees in all.  Brian was about ready to scream when he realized he was down to the last resume, except for the guy who hadn’t shown up.  Brian picked up the folder and read Jamie Farquarson on the front of it.  He wondered if Jamie was male or female.  He supposed he’d find out in a minute, unless this one decided not to show up too.

Brian pushed the button on the intercom.  “Dixie, send in the next one,” Brian ordered.

“It’s Doris!” the woman whined.  Brian cut the connection and chuckled to himself.  He had enjoyed using every name starting with the letter “D” that he could think of to torture Doris all day long.

A very obviously gay and colorfully dressed young man swished through his office door.  “Mr. Kinney, I’m Jamie,” the guy giggled holding out a limp wrested hand for Brian to shake.

‘Fuck!’ Brian thought.  He hadn’t said that out loud had he.  He hoped not, but it didn’t really matter.  He could tell already that he wouldn’t be hiring this one.  When you out-flamed Emmett Honeycutt, that was really saying something.  And this guy was light years beyond Emmett.

“Have a seat, Jamie.”

“Oooh, thank you, Mr. Kinney.  I’m really a fan of yours.”

“Fan?”

“Oh my lordy yes!  I’ve heard all about you, you know, the Stud of Liberty Avenue, and all that.”

“That’s … um … ancient history,” Brian said hating to use that word in any reference to himself.

“Well, you are rather famous, or infamous might be a better description.  I just felt compelled to come work for you,” Jamie continued to gush.

“Did you now!  What makes you think I should hire you?”

“Well, girlfriend, let me tell you.”  

Brian cringed at the term girlfriend.  This guy was definitely not going to be working for him.  “I’m not your girlfriend,” Brian said testily.

“Maybe you’d like to be my boyfriend instead,” Jamie giggled.

“Are you hitting on me?”

“Well, maybe just a teensy, weensy bit.  You are very good looking.”  Jamie batted his eyes suggestively at Brian.

“And I think we’re done!” Brian said standing up.

“You mean I got the job?” Jamie asked clapping his hands together.

“No, I do not fucking mean that you got the job.  You’re totally … unacceptable.”

“Gay on gay hatred,” Jamie pronounced.  “I should have known it wouldn’t be any different here.”

“Different than what?”

“Other places where I’ve been discriminated against because I’m gay.”

“But I’m gay too,” Brian said in bewilderment.  “Isn’t that why you came here?”

“That’s no excuse,” Jamie declared.  “I should have known.”

“Known what?”

“That you’re as big an asshole as I’ve heard everyone on Liberty Avenue say.”

“I thought you were a big fan,” Brian said with a frown.

“I told you that, because I was trying to ingratiate myself.  Couldn’t you figure that out?  Lordy!”  

Brian knew the implication was that he was somehow too stupid to have understood what Jamie was doing.  “Time for you to leave,” Brian stated.  How many times had he said that to tricks at the loft.  Eiw!  

“You can’t just dismiss me like I’m gum on the bottom of your Prada.”

“Watch me,” Brian stated.  “You know, I have never killed a man, but I have read many obituaries with great pleasure,” Brian quoted something he remembered reading once.  “And with any luck at all, yours will be the next one I read.” 

“Well I never, I really never!”

“And you never will … work here,” Brian stated.  “Get out!  This interview is over.”  

The big fairy stood abruptly and swished out of the office, muttering obscenities and how he was going to sue.  Brian squeezed the bridge of his nose and tried to fight the headache that was building to a crescendo.  That had to be the last interview.  Please God, make that the last one.

“Another person is here for an interview, Mr. Kinney,” the receptionist’s voice said over the intercom.

“I’ve seen them all, Dorothea,” Brian said with a sigh.

“No, there’s another one.”

Maybe it was the guy who didn’t show up earlier.  “Send him or her in,” Brian said.  Brian walked to the door of his office.  He nearly fell over when he saw who it was.  Mysterious Marilyn in all her glory.

“Wha…What are you doing here?” Brian stammered.

“Looking for a job.”

“As my receptionist?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Marilyn said as she breezed past Brian into the office.

“Not much,” Brian chuckled.  “Have a seat.”  He took up his position behind the desk.  “I thought you were busy reading Tarot cards and gazing into crystal balls.  Are you serious about this job?”

Marilyn grinned at him.  “No, not really.  My powers of intuition tell me that you’ve had a long hard day of interviews.  Theodore Schmidt thought that you could use a little comic relief,” Marilyn said with a smile.  “And a donut,” Marilyn added holding out a paper bag to Brian.

Brian took the bag.  “Actually you’re the best candidate that I’ve had all day.  If only you’d brought coffee,” Brian chuckled shaking his head.

“Oh honey, was it that bad?”

“Worse,” Brian sighed.  “Can you check your crystal ball and see if there’s any hope of getting a decent receptionist or should I just slit my wrists right now?”

“I think you should wait about twenty minutes, and one will show up,” Marilyn said.  Brian looked at her to see if she was being serious.  She nodded indicating that she was.  Brian blinked at her wondering what that meant.

“Hey, Bri, how goes the receptionist search?” Ted asked sticking his head in the door of Brian’s office.

“Do you have a death wish, Schmidt?” Brian asked, glaring at his CFO.

“Going that well, is it?” Ted chuckled.

“Thanks for sending Marilyn over.  She’s the best thing I’ve seen all day.”

“I brought coffee,” Ted said holding out the mug he was carrying as a peace offering to Brian.

“Thank God,” Brian said accepting the proffered mug and taking a sip.  “You wouldn’t happen to have some extra strength Excedrin or a hit of cocaine or some fucking cyanide pills in your pocket, would you?” Brian asked.

Ted chuckled as he pulled out a bottle of Tylenol and handed it to Brian.  “Thought you might need these.”

Brian popped the cap.  He shook out three capsules and swallowed them, taking a drink of his coffee to wash them down.  “Maybe I should take the whole fucking bottle and end this right now,” Brian griped.

“Wait till the twenty minutes is up,” Marilyn advised.

Brian frowned.  “I don’t think twenty minutes will make any fucking difference.”

“Believe me it will,” Marilyn said as she stood up.  “Have to go.  Fortunes to tell and problems to fix.”

“Thanks, Marilyn,” Ted said.

“My pleasure, sweet cheeks.”  And Marilyn left the office.

Brian raised an eyebrow, but decided not to pursue it.  Instead he said, “I can’t believe there are so many incompetent, illiterate and obnoxious people applying for this fucking job.”

“Nothing but the best for you, Bri,” Ted said stifling a laugh.

“I swear I will murder you if you laugh out loud.”

“Any likely prospects so far?” Ted asked wiping the smile off his face and changing the subject.

“Oh some real gems!  There’s the flaming fairy who puts Emmett to shame and the geriatric woman who bossed me around and the…”

“Okay, okay,” Ted said holding up his hands.  “I get the picture.”

“Oh, and my favorite, the one who could talk for three minutes without taking a breath and without saying anything comprehensible.  Her vocabulary was as bad as, like, whatever,” Brian said in his best valley girl imitation.

Ted did laugh out loud at that.  “It’s the end of the day,” he said.  “Go home and lie down.”

“But I don’t have a receptionist,” Brian whined.  “Fuck!  I sound like Donalda.”

“Who’s Donalda?” Ted asked.

“Long story.”

“Excuse me,” a pleasant looking young man said from the open door of the office.  “There doesn’t seem to be anybody at the desk.”

“Doris must have quit.  Hallelujah!” Brian snarked.  “What can I do for you?”

“I’m Trevor Albright.  I was supposed to be here several hours ago for an interview, but I had a slight car accident.”

Brian perked up when he heard that.  This was the guy who had quite a good resume.  Maybe this one had some potential.

“Are you all right … from the car accident, I mean?” Ted asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine, but you know how time consuming those kinds of things are.  The accident wasn’t even my fault, but it took up the whole afternoon,” the young man said with a warm smile.  “Am I too late for the interview?”

“Come right in, Trevor,” Brian said.  “You might just be what we’re looking for.”

Ted smiled and left the office.

“Did he like Trevor?” Marilyn asked when Ted joined her in the lobby.

“Looks promising,” Ted chuckled.

“Thanks for helping my nephew, Ted.  When he called to say he’d had an accident and was going to be late, I knew I had to do something to give him time to get here.”

“A wise man turns chance into good fortune, and you and your nephew may just have done that.  He looks like he’ll be great for the job,” Ted told her.

“Thanks for trusting my judgment.”

“No problem.”

Inside the main office of Kinnetik, Brian Kinney finished his interview with Trevor Albright.  He looked at his watch.  ‘Twenty minutes,’ he thought.  That Mysterious Marilyn was something else.  “So, Trevor, when can you start?”  



End file.
